


A Broken Kind of Family

by ElectoMe



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 21:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5944200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElectoMe/pseuds/ElectoMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the death of their parents, Katniss and Prim are living with their alcoholic uncle. Hope is a word that Katniss can barely comprehend, but what happens when a certain blonde haired boy comes in to shine some light on her?</p><p>Trigger Warning: Brief mentions of alcoholism and suicide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Broken Kind of Family

The smell is stale in my nose. It’s something that is all encompassing and I simply can’t escape. My home smells of nothing, but liquor. Bottles litter the floor and I find myself picking up at least five of them every day.

The situation isn't ideal, but my little sister, Prim, is fed and there is a roof over our heads, so I guess there's no room to complain.

Uncle Haymitch's drinking had been a problem since before the death of his sister, my mother, and it only got worse when my dad followed her soon after. He’s weak and I loathe that aspect of him.

I try my best to shield Prim from the worst of his problems, but it only seems to work about half of the time. Sometimes, when he's so intoxicated, I have to clean away the vomit that crusts his chin and covers the floor. Sometimes, I have to guide his limp body to bed after a night at the bar.

I understand that he's grieving, but there does come a point when it's time to move on.

When Prim and I get home from school today, I rush up the stairs to see if my uncle is home. I peek my head first in his room, and then in the bathroom to ensure that he hasn't fallen asleep with his head in the toilet again. When I am satisfied the coast is clear, I run back downstairs to start straightening up the mess he has made.

For a reason I cannot fathom, my teacher decided to pair me with Peeta Mellark for our science fair project. Peeta's family comes from a completely different social class than mine and the fact that we were meeting at my grungy house instead of his was already embarrassing enough. Theoretically, we could have walked back to my house together, but I made sure to slip out of the school before he could notice so I could have a chance to clean up.

The kitchen is the worst of the mess. He's left empty bottles in the sink and the remnants of some indecipherable food on the table and stove. I move about the kitchen in a frenzy, throwing bottles in the trash and dishes in the sink.

"What are you doing?" Prim asks, startling me.

"Cleaning," I answer simply.

"Yes, I see that. But why?" She absentmindedly picks up the broom and begins to help me. She knows that I don't usually clean up after Uncle Haymitch unless I really have to.

I sigh deeply, pulling my hands from under the flow of water from the faucet. "Peeta Mellark is coming over."

She raises her eyebrows at me, unfazed. Few know about my crush on this boy, and I plan to keep it that way. What I don't want to happen is for Peeta to see this life that I live and I never want him to meet Uncle Haymitch.

My uncle is the biggest embarrassment in my life.

My dad, before he passed, kept us away from him most of the time. He said he wasn’t good for us. I wonder what he’d think now.

I jump when I hear a knock at the door and my eyes meet Prim's for a split second before I throw the dish I was washing back into the sink and turn off the water. I take a minute to gather my thoughts, wiping the water off my hands and onto my jeans.

Prim smirks at me before replacing the broom and retreating up the stairs. I don't even have time to roll my eyes before I hear the knock again.

I suck in a deep breath before exiting in the kitchen and moving towards the front door. Peeta Mellark and I have been in the same classes since kindergarten, but he's never really paid any attention to me. He's on the wrestling team, a shoe in for captain next season once his brother graduates and I rarely see him in the halls without being surrounded by a group of people.

It goes without saying that most of those people are girls. And it's well known that they wear their hormones on their sleeves.

He stands as the perfectly coiffed preppy boy from pretty much any cliché teen film when I open the door. "Hi Katniss."

"Hi."

"I tried catching up with you after the bell rang, but you disappeared so quickly. I would've given you a ride home." I forgot he had a car. Whereas the only car my family owns is Uncle Haymitch's old pickup.

"I had to go get my sister," is all I say by way of explanation.

Minutes later we're sitting on the floor of the living room, our notes sprawled out on the floor before us. "What should our topic be?"

I shrug. Science fair is the worst part of the year in my opinion. It seems like we do all this work just to receive a mediocre grade and no kind of recognition. I could think of a number of ways I'd rather spend my time. "Can we do something based on ecology?" This may be the only branch of science that remotely interest me. My dad raised me in the woods and I'll always have an appreciation for nature.

Only some of my nervousness has dissipated. Even so, I can attribute what little I've achieved to Peeta. There's a reason why everyone seems to love him. He's so nice and charming and completely unrealistic. It doesn't hurt how easy on the eyes he is. He has curly blond hair that falls in waves over his forehead and bright blue eyes. To top it all off, his cheeks are slightly rosy, giving him a cherubic look and I find myself completely enamored with him.

"You're so hard to read," I hear Peeta say and I shift my gaze back to his face. "I can't tell if you're disinterested with the work or with me."

I feel my cheeks grow warm and before I know it I'm rushing to reassure him. "You're much more interesting than the work." I cringe. I don't think that made the situation any better.

The side of his lip quirks up. "That's such a compliment. I too think you're more interesting than animal feces," he gestures to the open textbook in front of us, open to a page discussing the effect of certain pollutants on the bowels of animals. I roll my eyes, but I have to look down at my lap in an attempt to hide the ridiculous blush that has sprouted on my cheeks.

At that moment Uncle Haymitch decides to burst through the front door. He stumbles inside spewing profanities. He must've spent the day at a bar instead of doing anything productive with his life. I clench my fists in my lap when he sets his eyes on Peeta. "Who's the pretty boy Katniss?" He laughs at his own words, as if he'd made some joke that no one else understands. I'm glaring at him with all the spite I can muster, but he doesn't seem to notice. "What's your name boy?"

"Peeta Mellark." Peeta holds out his hand towards him, but awkwardly returns it to his side when my uncle slaps it away.

Uncle Haymitch screws up his face, seemingly thinking as hard as his brain capacity will allow. "The Peeta Mellark. The one on your notebook? Is this the future Mr. Katniss Everdeen?"

My face turns red with anger; if I touched it, I'd probably burn my fingers. I have to bite my tongue hard to keep from yelling out and embarrassing myself further in front of Peeta. "Go away Haymitch!"

He's still chuckling as he makes his way out of the room. In his attempt to climb the stairs, he stumbles on the first one and falls to the floor. Instead of getting up, he falls asleep right there in his spot on the floor.  
  
Peeta must notice my expression because he jumps up, moving towards Uncle Haymitch. "It's okay. Let's just get him to bed." He helps me pull Haymitch up off the floor and up the stairs. When we get him to his room, Peeta almost singlehandedly picks Haymitch up and put him in his bed.  
  


It isn't until we are back downstairs that the embarrassment washes over me fully in a current so strong, the force of it could knock me down.

"You should probably go." I say to him, not meeting his eyes.

"Katniss—" He begins, but I hold up my hand to stop him. There's nothing else I have to say to him. Haymitch has ruined everything.

"We can finish the project later. Goodbye, Peeta." With a dejected expression, he gathers his books and leaves.

 

* * *

 

Haymitch isn't completely sober again until after school the next day. He's sitting at the kitchen table when Prim and I get home. I try to slip upstairs undetected, but its no use and when I hear him call my name I sigh.

"What Haymitch?" He's never been particularly caring, always making his replies as short as possible as if he doesn't want to admit that he has feelings.

"I must've made you pretty mad yesterday," he begins and I scoff.

"You could say that."

"Your mom wouldn't be happy with the way I've been treating you girls," he says. I don't interrupt him, I've been waiting for him to say something like this for years. "I know I haven't been much for you or Prim."

"A nice place to start would be sobering up."

"I know and I'm going to promise you that I'll try."

I don't know if I believe him, but there's something in his eyes that tells me I should.

 

* * *

 

I have done a particularly good job of avoiding Peeta at school, but once we get to biology class and our teacher allows us time to work on our science fair projects, it doesn't seem like my streak will be extending much farther.

"Hi Katniss."

"Hey Peeta."

"Do you want to work on this project after school today?" I cringe inwardly; even with Haymitch's promise to do better, bringing him back to my house seems like I'm asking for more embarrassment. Still, I nod. I can't find it in me to say no to his imploring gaze.

Peeta drives me to the middle school to pick up Prim after the bell rings and then the three of us head to my house. The whole ride their I'm crossing every finger and toe I have that Haymitch isn't home.

He pulls his jeep into our driveway and I make a point of walking as slowly as possible. Prim eventually gets annoyed with me, huffing and pushing her way through to unlock the door.

Haymitch is indeed here, but instead of being passed out in his room or ripping through the house in a rampage, he's cleaning. I didn't even know he possessed the skill to do that. Another notable change is, he’s bathed. The stench of stale liquor has been replaced with the harsh smell of cleaning fluids.

He doesn't say anything to us, but when he sees Peeta behind me, he quietly puts his things down and retreats up the stairs. Prim looks to me raising her eyebrows comically high, before following the path Haymitch just took.

"He seems to be doing better." Peeta finally says what we were all thinking.

I look at him, thinking for a minute before deciding on what to say. "He promised me he would."

"I know what this is like. My mother is an alcoholic too, but unlike your uncle, she hasn't made any attempts to stop. She has anger issues, but they only seem to get worse when she's been drinking. I've been her punching bag a few times growing up." As he says the last part, his hand ghosts over his face.

I remember him coming to school with bruises on his arms when we were younger. At one point in the sixth grade, he came to school with a bright red weal across his cheek.

Peeta steps closer to me and takes my hand in both of his. "I just want you to know that I understand."

Before I know it, I'm spilling my guts to Peeta. I tell him about how my mother was depressed and killed herself when I was ten and my dad died in a car accident nearly three years later. I tell him about how I feel stuck here in a place that until recently I didn't even feel wanted. I tell him my fear that one day Haymitch will drink himself to death and there will be no where else for Prim and I to go, but into the system and I know Prim can't handle that. I tell him everything that I have kept to myself for the past three years.

"Sometimes I feel like I have no one." I add, looking down at my hand which is still clasped between his.

"I'm here. We're friends now right?"

I nod. i really hope he's telling the truth.

 

* * *

 

Six months later...

The smell that permeates our home is no longer that of liquor. To take away the temptation of alcohol, Uncle Haymitch smokes. A lot. He drinks a lot of coffee too, but sometimes the craving is too strong and I’ll find him clutching a bottle while sitting on the kitchen floor, eyes red, and body shaking.

He’s trying though.

He’s doing better now, not good, but better. But the amounts of smoke and caffeine he consumes daily worries me. So much so that I think it might eventually kill him, but I'd take the new him over the old one any day.

And I can tell he doesn’t completely loathe our presence because of the strides he makes towards getting sober. When I walk home with Prim from school he always asks me about our day. I guess he’s not completely useless as my dad thought.

I think he pities me. I can see it in the way his bloodshot eyes look me over with a sadness that I’ve never seen before. It’s the kind you’d see when your parents helped you up after a nasty fall off of your bike. The kind that hints at compassion.

Peeta comes by more often and we continue to grow closer. The giddy part of me wants to smile like an idiot when he puts an arm around my shoulders or holds my hand.

It all makes me feel like I actually have a family again.

I tell Peeta this one day and he stares at me so intently, that I think I may have misjudged his attention towards me.

To my surprise he pulls me closer to him and grabs my face in his hands. "I am your family." And then he kisses me. His lips are so warm and soft and a mix of emotions screws up in my belly, setting my entire body on edge. I grab onto his shirt to tether myself to the ground and ensure that I won't combust.

When he pulls away and leans his head against my forehead I whisper, "We're all family now."

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Farewell Tour of Prompts in Panem Day 2. Please comment and tell me what you think, I'm still new to this! Come to electome.tumblr.com if you want to chat!


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